


Memories of Our Youth

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Crush, Bad Influence Mentor, Centaur Servant, Denial of Feelings, Embarrassment, Friendless Awkward Snape, Hogwarts Forbidden Forest, Hurt/Comfort, Legilimency, M/M, Manipulative Lucius Malfoy, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Severus Snape-centric, Slow Burn, Unexpected attraction, Young Severus Snape, forbidden books
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22055728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A story following the relationship between Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy during their time as students at Hogwarts. Lucius lures young Snape into the Forbidden Forest, enlisting his help in a dangerous and illicit experiment involving the centaur, Bane.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy & Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ages changed: Severus is in Fourth Year and Lucius is in his Seventh.

A lanky dark-haired youth leaned against the cold stone of the tower windowsill, gazing down at groups of students shuffling up slate steps on their way back from Herbology class. His eyes lingered upon one particular girl, annoyed to find her quickly obscured from view as she darted amongst her friends and disappeared through the gate to the castle courtyard.

Before he withdrew to the Slytherin dormitory to resume his studies, his black eyes took a final look at the expansive panorama of the Hogwarts grounds, finding sympathizing company in the howling wind and bleak skies over the lake. Yet this was not all he saw – a small boat could be discerned upon the rippling surface of the water somewhere in the distance; someone was struggling to control the vessel, keeping it on course by determined efforts of magic which fought against the force of the elements.

Something told Severus that this was not a pleasure trip, the weather was certainly most foul, but he could surmise not further as his conjecturing were interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice. In that instant, a thin hand gripped him tightly on the shoulder, whisking him around to face the toothy scowl of Mr. Filch.

“Nothing better to do Snape?” he gave him a glare of suspicion. From experience, he had grown wary of any boy lurking about on his own in unfrequented corridors. “Whatchya looking at there eh? Don’t you have clases?”

“No – nothing sir,” Severus was flustered at first, having been so roughly startled out of a daydreamer’s mood, but swiftly sought to gather his things and turn from the old caretaker with an air of indifference. Divination was cancelled that day, something which he greeted with little regret, yet he did not think it would be worth his while to try to explain anything to Filch, getting out of his way being the more expedient course.

Several weeks passed since the incident of the strange boat, which by then had drifted far from the forefront of his thoughts as his mind became occupied with other investigations.

Being a boy who kept to himself for the most part, he had taken to spending most of his leisure hours in the library, scanning its shelves and borrowing books with a ravenous appetite, until it was inevitable that his interests were drawn to those volumes not intended for young and impressionable minds. The allure of the forbidden naturally piqued his curiosity, and so it was not long before he ventured to see if those pages would yield their mysteries to him – paving the way to his rise as one of the most skilled students in potions and the Dark Arts. At night he would sneak into the Forbidden Section, carrying with him a blank volume, which by the use of a simple charm, would be filled with a copy of the book which he held in his hand. Occasionally the blank volume was too small to suffice, and so another trip would be required to retrieve the final part of the book. Yet these and other obstacles did little to deter him, including several close calls when he was nearly caught by the librarian, nor when professor Trelawney had been engaged in searching for a place to stow away what sounded like a couple of glass bottles hidden in her knitted bag.

He knew it was a matter of time before he was found out and that his investigations could not go on indefinitely, but he was prepared to take the consequences and learn as much as he could in the meantime. Despite careful precautions, the night when he was discovered was due to a most foolish bit of carelessness on his part. In his enthusiasm to get his hands on the fourth volume of _Parlov’s Poisons and Elixers_ he had neglected to cast a muffling charm, hoping to go in quickly and return to his bed without further a due, yet he paused by the shelf flipping the pages and reading snatches of paragraphs, searching to confirm that the elixir which he sought after was indeed to be found in the book. It was unlike anything he had ever brewed before and he could not afford to make an error lest it should in some way harm the object of his desires – a love potion that he hoped to have prepared in time for the Yule Ball.

Its power was such that it would heighten feelings of attachment and longing between two persons, channeling them into expression towards the one whom they loved. The sallow-skinned youth believed that Lily’s dormant feelings for him, although suppressed and conflicted by modesty and morality, would surely come to bloom by the aid of the renowned potion. He would bring them to light, as he would his own, intending that they take the potion together. Snape planned to take advantage of the festive day to make his love confession, something he had been imagining for years, struggling to summon up the courage. Once he had the instructions, all that remained was acquiring the ingredients and figuring out the best way to induce Lily to drink the potion – how difficult this would be he did not know, hoping that luck would be on his side, and if not, that determination would see him through. Once he made up his mind about something, he was relentless in his pursuit of it.

He knew that he had to take action or else lose her to Potter, whose arrogance and presumption allowed him to make bolder and more decisive movements towards the girl, charming her with fanciful baubles and parading his achievements before her. So far these efforts were rather hit or miss, at times she seemed to side with him in his contempt for Potter, at other instances, he was not so sure.

Snape remembered with distaste the expression upon her face as she showed him what looked like a miniature enchanted carousel of fantastical creatures, topped with a replica of Hogwarts castle rotating to the sound of fairy harps, glimmers of starry light floating slowly up from the windows of the towers. With a contorted face, he showed his revulsion at the gaudiness of the gift, hiding back under the folds of his cloak an awkwardly wrapped parcel before sweeping out of the room, saying that he did not have time for this and had to finish a Transfiguration assignment. Lily continued to stare at the toy, mesmerized. Of course they both suspected who the ‘secret’ admirer was who had left her the gift.

Snape closed the book and slipped it into the pocket of his robe, at least a size too big, holding his breath as he heard the sound of the library door open. He looked at his palm, where a red mark, representing himself, was being swiftly approached by a black one, the other’s footsteps walking decisively towards him – he knew he had been somehow discovered for the person did not search about, making their way directly for the Restricted Section.

Through the darkness he could suddenly make out the long blond hair of Lucius Malfoy, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, entering the aisle of shelves parallel to his own. By then he had obscured all sound from himself, yet he could not help but hold his breath as he heard Lucius walk closer and closer to where he stood, separated only by a row of books. By impulse, he took a step backwards to grab his bag in case he could make an effort to get away, for the first time uncertain whether the Slytherin prefect had actually seen him or not. This was a perilous move, for his foot had caught on the hem of his oversized robe, causing him to stumble heavily against the bookcase. If Malfoy had not been aware of him before, he certainly was now, Snape thought grimly as he tried to pull himself up, reaching for his wand. A book had fallen onto the floor beside him with a thud, resounding nosily in the eerie silence of the library.

“Who goes there,” he heard the other’s voice, a note of unease tainting his tone of assertiveness as he made his way around the row of books.

Snape scrambled to get away, his mind racing as to what to do. Before he could decide, he felt the sharp sting of a body-bind curse hit him from the end of the isle. Steady footsteps drew near him as his heart pounded in his chest.

When Snape looked up at Malfoy, he could see that his features were relaxed, pleased even, as he gazed down at his victim. He guessed that Lucius had hesitated only in the fear that he might be striking at a professor.

“Severus, why am I not surprised to see you here,” he smirked, Severus was not sure if it was with malice or simply the satisfaction of uncovering a secret. Unexpectedly, Snape felt the curse lifted from him as Lucius offered him his hand.

He continued to stare into the cold gray eyes which seemed to scrutinize him unnervingly, his mouth gaping as he searched for what to say. In his anxiety he was unable to come up with a reasonable excuse to account for his presence there. Although Snape had always imagined that he would respond to detection with resignation, as a man ready to die for a worthy cause, a part of him still seemed to grope for the means by which he might slither away from his punishment. Such an opportunity seemed to play upon the sphinx-like smile on Malfoy’s lips, as if there was just some sliver of a chance that he would release him unscathed, if he gave him the right answer. 

After a long pause, he hesitantly took Lucius’s hand, his own palm as sweaty as his brow.

“There is no need to be afraid,” Malfoy spoke softly close to his ear as he brusquely pulled him closer, such that Snape doubted if he was reassuring or mocking him. “Tell me now,” he went on, his silkily voice close to his ear, “what is it that you have been reading?”

Snape wanted to recoil but he dared not move.

“N-nothing,” he mumbled half-audibly.

“It is most unwise to lie – such an obvious pathetic lie, it is unworthy of you,” he could feel the book that had been bulging in his robe pocket being snatched into Lucius’s hand, the other’s grip tightening upon his hand so that it was beginning to hurt. “What do we have here,” he drawled.

Snape watched him as he scanned through the pages of the book held out between them, which were turned as if by invisible hands. Severus felt at least some relief that the contents of the volume were broad enough to conceal his intentions and he took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He almost wished it was a professor that had caught him, for he had the distinct impression of a cat that was playing with its food before devouring it, looking between the book and Malfoy, his heart still racing. The pages stopped turning.

“Well well, isn’t this curious,” Snape’s face burned as he saw that it was the page containing the love potion. “I must say, I am surprised at you Severus – I did not take you for a romantic,” his lips curled in a smirk which roused something close to hatred in the hooked-nosed boy. Then, to his surprise, Malfoy closed the book shut and pressed it into Snape hand – he took it automatically, looking up at the prefect, who continued to stare back at him, as if waiting for him to speak. As he did not, Lucius went on.

“The ingredients which you require shall be difficult to procure,” he said with a serious tone, “did you intend on stealing them from the potions room?”

“N-no,” Snape answered, clutching the book tightly.

“What did I say?” his brow furrowed slightly at the other’s second attempt to lie, but he continued to look at him with something of indulgence.

“Yes,” the younger student spoke after a breath, it felt as if something had been forcing itself into his mind, penetrating his thoughts, and he wondered if it was only the poignancy of how mortified he felt at having his secret desire laid open before someone he barely knew. It would have been less bad if he had been discovered looking at recipes for poisons, thought Snape, somehow he felt that Malfoy would understand.

He was not one to confide in others, especially not for something of this nature. Yet it seemed as if Lucius Malfoy was inviting him to take him into his confidence, or rather, obliging him to.

“You will not find them there,” he said, conjecturing that Snape had not yet had time to read the ingredients carefully – somehow discarding the possibility that it was the half-blood’s first time stealing from the supply cupboard.

“Then I will take them from Slughorn’s room,” he said with more confidence this time, a touch of bravado rising up in his chest as he sought to impress Malfoy by his daring, channeling the manner of the likes of Sirius. “He boasts often enough of his collection of rare ingredients”

Lucius seemed to consider him, intrigued that Snape had thought this to be the way by which to wheedle himself into favor, but Malfoy could hardly believe that the quiet lanky boy in front of him was the hardened transgressor he boasted to be, to risk something so foolish, for an equally foolish objective.

Nevertheless, he would play along. 

“I would advise against it,” said Lucius knowingly, as if he were giving a valuable tipoff to a novice speculator, “Slughorn has cast his eye upon you. You would do well not to risk incurring his displeasure at such a pivotal time. Someone of your position must naturally be dependent on the influence of others to pave your way, yet your abilities will serve as your recommendation in many a circle”

Snape did not know how to reply, a part of him feeling a pathetic secret pleasure at the prefect’s insinuations, unaccustomed to open praise from other students. The only exception had been Lily, who was drifting further and further away from him of late, leading him to the desperate measures which he sought.

There were times before when he believed he had seen Malfoy looking at him at mealtimes in the great hall, but he had always presumed that it was with contempt – like a vagrant that had insolently seated himself among his courtiers. He had never envisioned that Lucius would stoop to take interest in him, despite his growing reputation as a talented, albeit reclusive, young wizard. Likewise, Snape remembered his first day at Hogwarts, how Malfoy seemed pleased to see him sorted into Slytherin, although he spoke not a word to him. Severus had felt too shy to speak to anyone, avoiding the gazes of other students as he slouched over his food, eating ravenously for the table was laden with a banquet finer than anything he had ever gotten to eat at home, surpassing even his hungry fantasies.

Yet after quenching his appetite, his anxiety returned, half-conscious fears that he was inferior to other Slytherins, a fact that would become evident soon enough, so he told himself, unless he kept his mouth shut and stayed out of the way, meanwhile learning as much as he could of magic, believing that his strength and power would lie along the path of knowledge, a journey which he would pursue alone. 

“Yes, Severus, there are those who are willing to overlook your unfortunate circumstances, your despicable father –”

“I do not need your pity, Malfoy,” Severus snapped, the other’s words stirring up the spleen of his insecurities.

“Nor my patronage?” he overlooked the youth’s retort, amused by how quickly his ego bristled at the touch of his words, “I can help you, if you are willing to accept my offer”

“What offer?” Snape looked away, unable to focus under the other’s piercing gaze. He could not help but feel a tantalizing hope welling inside of him for he knew not what. He would be cautious, he would think carefully before accepting any ‘help’ from Malfoy, so he told himself, trying not to look too eager or too interested. Snape swallowed, trying to shake off the muddle of feelings that clouded his brain. It was well past midnight and a part of him just wished he could lay down safe in bed and forget everything.

“Perhaps that is a discussion we can hold – “

“Are you sure my pretty?” a raspy cloying voice was suddenly heard in the distance, followed by that sound of a door closing shut.

Malfoy and Snape both turned in the direction of the voice. When Severus looked back to Lucius, he felt the older youth put his arm around his waist and pull him close, draping a diaphanous shimmering fabric over the two of them. Malfoy gave him a threatening glare as Snape nearly stumbled over his feet, grabbing hold of him just in time in an awkward embrace. They both stood frozen as a cat sniffed a few feet from where they stood.

Snape could feel the other’s heartbeat as his face was pressed against his chest from where he dared not stir. In this compromising position, they waited as Filch inevitably dragged himself closer, an iron-cast lantern swinging in his bony hand. Lucius bit his lip, thinking, at last deciding to risk it. He reached for his wand and sent the cat hurtling far across the room, the mangy creature yowling terribly in righteous fury as it rolled onto the librarian’s desk, displacing a pile of parchment and a candle holder with a loud clatter.

“Mrs. Norris!” Filch gasped, staggering frantically to the aid of his beloved feline, while Lucius pulled Snape after him through the isle of the Forbidden Section towards the door. There was no time to waste, both students raced towards the exit into the empty hallway. As he ran, Snape took a departing glance at the figure of Filch stooping over the small body, his hands moving with distress through what remained of his hair, muttering something he could not make out, then suddenly rising and looking about the still darkness of the library.


	2. Chapter 2

In the days that followed, Severus learned many things about Malfoy which had surprised him. For one thing, he had never expected to find himself seated for tea between the half-giant gamekeeper, Hagrid, and the haughty pureblood who seemed to be positively delighted to receive his portion of a fresh batch of Rock Cakes. After a first bite of one, Snape judged that they were well deserving of their name. He felt the other’s foot hit his ankle under the table, causing him to drop it on the floor, they both leaned down as if to pick it up and he saw Lucius mouth something to him that he could not understand, hoping that it was not particularly important.

“Not to worry, plenty more of these so don’t hold back,” Hagrid patted him heartily on the back, bumping his ribs painfully against the table, “oops sorry about that, you alright there?”

Snape had no choice but to have another cake, yet to his surprise, when he brought it to his mouth, he found himself chewing on something flavorless bearing the consistency of mashed potatoes. Whatever this spell was, it allowed him to make his way through his allotted Rock Cakes, leaving a somewhat strange tingly feeling in his stomach. 

The young wizard felt rather out of place, despite Hagrid’s boisterous friendly manner, mostly directed at young Malfoy, whose polite interest in the various magical creatures of the Forbidden Forest met with an eagerly receptive audience. Hagrid fervently expounded upon the traits and qualities of dreadfully misunderstood beings, and the rare blessing of being so close to them as gamekeeper.

As the night wore on, Severus, who had been rather interested at first, began to feel himself drifting off, until the moment came when Lucius called upon him to take out the ‘gift’ that they had brought.

Carefully, he pulled a heavy urn of green glass from his bag, placing it upon the table in front of Hagrid, who began to gush as his eyes set upon the tiny creature floating in the water before him.

“Oh you shouldn’t have, really it’s too much,” he sniffled, loudly blowing his nose with a large dirty handkerchief, “now where did you two manage to get a water kelpie from,” he held up the bowl closer to his eye in enraptured admiration, tearing up at the apparently generous gesture.

The creature, what looked like little more than a miniature black sea-horse bobbed up and down inside the urn, its only distinguishing feature upon closer observation being the thin legs and hair which sprouted from its tiny body.

“Severus has his ways,” Lucius winked at him with a self-satisfied smile. Snape was about to protest, when he felt the other stroke his hair as if he were petting a lapdog, leaving a disconcerting feeling. He wondered at this strange gesture, which Hagrid did not seem to notice, it was both demeaning and oddly pleasant. Severus tried to catch the other’s gaze but Lucius seemed more interested in Hagrid’s reaction rather than his own.

“No need to look shocked boy,” he said when he at last looked up at them, “I don’t mind that – in fact I was a bit like you back in _my_ student days, getting into all sorts of trouble I did – definitely would for one of these fellas,” he turned his great eyes back to the bowl, as if unable to believe his fortune, giving Snape time to flash Malfoy another questioning look, of which the other again seemed pointedly oblivious.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me”, Hagrid beamed at the two of them. It was as if he was noticing Snape for the first time. “And if you...um...got any others, you know I’d be happy to offer what help I can caring for ‘em. Not to be saying that you _should_ be out looking...looking for trouble, but if it happens to find _you_ , well what can you do but make the best of it, eh,“ he laughed encouragingly as he took a swig from a big mug of tea.

Snape was only half listening, he was thinking about what it was that Lucius hoped to get out of this seemingly pointless meeting, he knew that he did not think much of Hagrid, so why was he mollifying him with gifts? One thing for certain, he did not like being cast in the role of ‘amateur collector of dangerous creatures’, regretting that he had not been bold enough to contradict Malfoy at the time.

But it was too late, the gamekeeper was urging them to return to their dorms before it got any darker by the time Snape had realized his mistake. They parted with more assurances that the kelpie would be well taken care of and that they did the right thing by bringing it to him.

“I do not doubt it,” drawled Malfoy flatteringly, “we are most grateful to you Hagrid, I am glad to count you amongst my most trusted friends“

“Y-yes, thank you Hagrid,” Snape felt compelled to say, as if the words were bursting to get out of him.

Turning around, Severus tried not to make a face as the two concluded their prolonged goodbyes, feeling that he was lucky to have survived the hug that Hagrid gave him, nearly squeezing the breath out of him. Somehow he was not surprised to see an expression of exasperation on Lucius’s face once he too was out of sight from the half-giant, just barely managing to extricate himself from another rib-crushing embrace.

Stalking after him through the cool night air, Snape was still in disbelief regarding this unusual friendship, wondering how it began, and how it would end. Hagrid waved at them from the window of his hut as they made their way back to the castle, only they did not enter.

“What do you mean we’re not going back to our dorm!” he tried rather poorly not to show his annoyance, regretting having agreed to accompany Lucius on whatever it was that he was planning. He hated that he would not tell him what they were about until it felt like it was too late to back out. At the same time, he coveted this newfound friendship enough to allow Malfoy considerable sway, and Malfoy knew it.

“We are not finished,” he hooked his arm with that of Severus, leading him back down the hill, deaf to the younger boy’s protests.

At first he thought that they were heading back to Hagrid’s hut, but they kept going. Fang barked, causing the half-giant to give him a scolding, not without taking a precautionary glance outside the window – seeing nothing but a half-dozen crows perched near his pumpkin patch.

“Have you ever been to the Forbidden Forest Severus?” Malfoy put his arm around his shoulder, either to comfort him or to make it easier to restrain him if he tried to run away as they stood upon the threshold of the woods.

He had seen the hook-nosed boy lurch backwards at the sound of something scurrying at their approach, but Snape had not tried to flee, and this pleased Malfoy. Severus did not know if it was because he was curious enough to attempt the venture or if he knew that the other would make him whether he wanted to or not.

“No,” he murmured, feeling Lucius’s draw his arm away and take his hand instead, leading him into the forest.

Both of them held their wands firmly in their hands as they entered the dark paths lined by swaying towering trees, every noise making Snape’s stomach churn as he kept close to Malfoy. He too seemed visibly ill at ease, whatever he wanted must have been important enough to draw him into such a dangerous place, for he did not think Lucius fancied the thrill of danger just for its own sake. They scrambled over roots and overgrown brambles, a faint light from their wands illuminating their way, until they arrived at a small dark pond.

Snape stood watching as he heard Lucius whisper an incantation, causing the surface of the water to ripple, revealing a heavy metal chest which dragged itself out, dripping in mud and a few tangled plants which he flicked away with his wand. The lock glowed and opened with the clang of gears when he touched it, revealing thirty or so slots, all empty but three, containing bottles of some kind of silvery potion.

“What is it?” asked Snape, bending down beside him to examine the box.

“All in due time,” said Malfoy, closing the box shut after slipping two bottles carefully into his bag. Then, he offered the last to Severus, “keep this safe”. Snape took it reluctantly, putting it away in the pocket of his cloack. He saw that Lucius placed a concealment charm upon his own potions.

“Ought I to do the same?” he asked.

“No,” the other replied. They both watched the empty box slide back down into the water, rippling for a time and then growing still again, before continuing on their journey through the forest.

It felt as if they had been walking for an hour, only exhaustion and the fact that he had not been killed yet kept Severus’s nerves at bay. Indeed the forest seemed peculiarly silent, as if they were entering some depth of it that most living creatures avoided. This thought served to increase his disquiet, and instinctively he held Lucius’s hand more firmly. The older boy laughed lightly, glancing down at Snape.

“We are nearly there,” said Lucius as he felt the pressure of the other’s cold thin fingers. They both wished that they had worn heavier cloaks over their school robes.

At last they reached what appeared to be an old oak tree, perhaps the oldest in the forest, thought Severus, given the size of its trunk.

“What now?” he asked, it appeared that this was the place, seeing that Lucius did not move, looking around as if searching for someone – or something.

“Now we wait,” he sat down upon one of the giant tree roots and Snape did the same, staring down at his feet and then out into the murky gloom surrounding them.

“For what?” Snape said sharply, annoyed at the unsatisfying answer. He was about to take out the bottle from his bag when the other reached out and grabbed his wrist, preventing him.

“You must keep that hidden until I tell you otherwise,” he shot him a look of anger that he had not seen before. Severus wondered if Lucius was scared. Just as suddenly, he resumed his usual demeanor.

“Do you know what is in this bottle?” his eyes seemed to dwell on Snape with condescending pleasure.

“No,” Snape answered curtly, perhaps it was his tiredness and hunger that was affecting his temper. He had lost hope of getting a straight answer from Lucius, a part of him sometimes suspected that the less he knew the better.

“It is unicorn blood,” he smiled, seeing the look of horror and incredulity written upon the other’s face as soon as he uttered the words.

“I was not the one who killed it,” Malfoy continued, given that Snape had been struck speechless.

“Then who did?” Snape managed to say at last.

“He is standing before us,” Lucius rose to his feet and made a bow to a creature that had the torso of a dark-haired young man and the lower body of a horse. Snape rose too, staggering back in fright. He did not know how long the centaur had been standing there, so silent had been his steps upon the mossy ground.

“Greetings, Bane,” Lucius Malfoy straightened himself, “excuse me for my prolonged absence. What news have you of your mother’s recovery? I suppose that is the subject upon which you have summoned me here. And may I introduce you to my friend, Severus Snape”

“I have been seeking you for a fortnight, yet you have been silent. I began to think that you had abandoned us,” the centaur approached them, sniffing at Severus with a mixture of distrust and curiosity, “why is this one here?”

“Because he will prove useful to our purpose” said Lucius, taking a step forward towards the creature, which caused it to kick the ground with a certain restlessness, its tail lashing behind its back.

“I _cannot_ excuse you for your absence,” Bane cast a final dismissive look at the scrawny figure of Severus and turned his fierce gaze upon Malfoy, whose approach he took as something of a challenge. “Apologies will not undo the damage which has been caused. Her condition has digressed, the malevolent growth is again expanding, devouring her body,” Bane’s flickered between the two wizards, angrily, pleadingly. There was something desperate and helpless in him, which made him seem even more dangerous.

“I understand Bane, that is why I have returned tonight,” said Lucius, placing a hand upon Snape’s shoulder, who stood shivering, “and Severus here will be able to assist you better than I can, being amongst the most skilled in potion making. You see, we have something of a predicament. There is only one dose left and I doubt that it shall suffice, the supply has been nearly exhausted. That is what I have been working during the past week, without success I must confess.”

“No! You lie – it cannot be all gone, it cannot be!” suddenly, the centaur lurched forward and grabbed Lucius by the collar, pulling him off his feet. Snape saw a bright flash of light and both Malfoy and the centaur were on the ground, he tried to help him up but Lucius pushed him away, getting up first and pointing his wand again at the creature.

“Is this how you repay my benevolence towards your degenerate race?” he scowled, his usually languid features contorted into loathing, his cloak bespattered with dirt from the fall.

The centaur seemed to cower before him and Snape observed that one of its legs was twisted in an unnatural position, perhaps broken.

“N-no, I am grateful,” the centaur grovelled, showing signs that it was not the first time that it had thus been threatened, and knew to fear the consequences. Surely it was nothing but desperation that had driven the proud centaur to make such an unlikely alliance. “Please, M-master, forgive me,” Bane shuffled backwards and then bowed his head so that his face nearly touched the muddy ground, Snape could almost taste the disgust with which the words ‘master’ were uttered, “I have been restless, afraid that the sacrifices that have been made were done in vain. I could not forgive myself if it were so,” and something in his tone told Severus that the centaur would not forgive Lucius, either. “What will we do?” he could see Bane’s eyes water pathetically and for the first time he realized that the creature was quite young, likely about their age. 

“As I have been trying to explain, we will need to see if there is a way to extend our remaining quantity of unicorn blood. Nothing can be promised of course, but we will do what we can. Unless of course you would like the last vial now?” he reached into Snape’s pocket and held it out the centaur, who looked at it longingly, fighting against the impulse to grab it.

“Will she survive, until then?” Bane tried to rise, stumbling and collapsing again from the leg which had been deformed.

“I can make no further promises,” Lucius repeated coldly.

There was silence as Bane tried to weigh his options. At last he spoke, “take it, take the last of it. This alone would not save her,” Snape could sense the sorrow and disappointment in his voice, the feeling of utter helplessness.

“That’s correct,” said Malfoy, “it would not I’m afraid”

“Yet you had promised me, that you would save her,” Bane’s voice was soft, childish even. “If I killed the unicorn, she would get better”

“There is still some hope for a recovery if we resume the doses and improve their efficacy – Snape and I will work to cure Alianria, in the meantime you must be patient and carry out your duties as usual. What more is there to discuss?”

“If she dies then I shall suffer the curse that is the punishment of my evil deed,” Bane said fearfully, again the fury rose within him yet he fought to suppress it.

“That is not certain. Your intentions had been altruistic – you had not killed the creature for your own benefit, nor drank its blood, and so the punishment, if such there must be, will surely be less severe than you presume. Nor does Alianria bear signs of the curse, if your accounts of her condition are accurate”

“Will you come to see her, I would like for you to judge her condition for yourself”

“I do not have time, we must return to the castle before morning. Do you understand?” Severus could see that Malfoy was growing impatient with the centaur, towards whom he seemed to have little sympathy.

These attempts to reason with Bane had little effect, for the creature’s remorse was such that he would not allow himself to accept a lighter burden than the one he thought was his due, holding onto the conviction that he was deserving of the curse if he and Malfoy failed to do good by the evil deed.

Snape awkwardly watched as Bane tried to wipe away the tears that were streaming down his face, wondering what it was that his mother suffered from and if Malfoy had been in any way sincere in trying to help him. But in the forefront of his mind was the role he would have to play in the scheme, given that Lucius had promised the centaur to make use of his skills for such a daunting experiment. And what the consequences would be if they failed, he did not presume to know, wondering if they too might share in some of the punishment associated with slaying the innocent beast. That could not be, Severus tried to comfort himself, whatever business Lucius and Bane transacted, his part in it was in no ways malevolent – nor had he so much as consented to take part, despite Lucius’s brazen presumption.

Bane continued to sob hopelessly, perhaps these were the tears that he had been holding back for many months – a part of him felt that there was little optimism to be found in Malfoy’s proposal, yet he no longer felt anger towards him, believing that he had not betrayed him intentionally, but through ignorance of the powers with which he meddled – such was the arrogance of wizards. He allowed Lucius to kneel beside him on the cold ground, speaking an incantation over his injured leg which he stroked gently as he murmured the healing words of the spell. Severus looked at them with a strange feeling which was almost like jealousy, but that could not be it, he reasoned, for what reason had he to feel thus.

“Have you brought what I asked?” spoke Malfoy, rising to his feet and brushing off his cloak.

The centaur tested his limb carefully and then walked into the darkness of the woods, returning a few minutes later with a heavy sack clutched in his hands. His face dirty from crying, he held the bag out wordlessly to Lucius, who opened it and examined what looked like various plants, bones, insects and something like a large quantity of silvery thread wound around a stick.

“Very good,” he said, placing them back in the sack, which he handed to Snape to carry.

“I am not your servant,” muttered the dark-haired youth under his breath, which the other seemed not to notice.

“Thank you Bane, I will summon you once we have news. If you do not hear from us assume that, unfortunately, we have no further progress to report,” he said to the centaur, preparing to depart. “I hope that you will not despair, regardless of what might happen – and that you trust me do what I can for you and Alianria”

Bane hesitated until at last he replied, “I have no choice”.


End file.
